


Forever Puddles

by Aetherbright (tinyCentaur), tinyCentaur



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: Abuse, Gen, Implications of parasites, Ink Demonth, Multi, Slow Burn, everyone is dead apart from the characters mentioned, illustrator!reader, more will be added as fic updates, only minor implications tho, reader is around early twenties/late twenties, reader is defined as feminine but gender is up to u bro, reader works for the studios, why? Hehe who knows :)))
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:47:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26211397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyCentaur/pseuds/Aetherbright, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinyCentaur/pseuds/tinyCentaur
Summary: Wake up.Please... wake up.We don’t have much time left.We need you to set us free.—Hi this is my first fan fic in a while, please be gentle. You are a stranded illustrator within the studio, with no idea what year it was and how you ended up here. Memories come back to you as you make your way through the corridors. However, something sinister has its eyes on you for a darker purpose.
Relationships: "Bendy" | Ink Bendy/Reader, Bendy (Bendy and the Ink Machine)/Reader
Comments: 12
Kudos: 49





	1. Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello my name is Tiny and I’m slowly jumping back into the world of fan fiction writing... again. I’m hoping this attempt will go a lot better than my last. 
> 
> I got mega inspired by Dripping Ebony and Grinning Ivory by KunstlerinAlora. I do recommend giving that a read! But anyways, I rly wanted to make this fandom some more content cuz it’s been a little slow lately. (Or so I found I’m not great at finding fan fiction whoops) 
> 
> So I wanted to give this a shot. This will be more horror themed, but I also have ideas for another Bendy x Reader which is more soft (but still slow burn) I might try later. But my muse is biggest for this right now. So here we go. 
> 
> Any critique is really appreciated. Please have fun with this and be wary of my tags. <3

You felt like you were swimming in an abyss. When was the last time you truly felt... Alive? You weren’t sure. All you knew and all you seemed to ever have known is the constant sludge of cold warping and swimming around your limbs, your vision filled with black. 

Whispers of the damned plagued your senses. Yet, you hadn’t a clue of what prophecy they spoke of. How long have you been here? How did you even _get here_? Your mouth was filled with an unknown substance, slowly draining it’s way downward into your lungs. Words scribbled in insanity flashed across your brain, as you felt something invade your system. They didn’t linger long enough to truly see what they said, however, leaving you yet still in complete darkness.   
  


Then, you saw a light.   
  


Gold and shimmering against the walls of infinite, wavering void, they seemed to be beckoning to you. Urging you onward to your freedom. With not much else to pay attention to, you approached. You couldn’t really feel yourself moving, but slowly, but surely, you felt your chest taking in its first breath in forever. Your limbs pulled themselves to life, dominant hand now reaching for the light which grew brighter, brighter still. The whisperings has gotten louder, until one stood out amongst the rest.   
  


_Wake up._

_Please, wake up._

_We don’t have much time left.  
_

_We need you to set us free.  
  
_

* * *

With a gasp, you were startled awake. Your eyes flew open and your back bolted rigid into being upright. Splashes of what you soon figured out to be ink surrounded you in an embrace. Your upper half was now free from the liquid, lower still submerged. Your breathing was staggered and it took you some time to finally feel like you weren’t drowning. Eventually, you steadied yourself, and took in yourself and surroundings. 

Ah... this feels. Familiar, but not quite. Your attire didn’t seem like it had aged a day, the ink slowly dribbling itself off back into the pool below. To your surprise, your clothes weren’t stained, save for a few splatters of ink in certain spots. This seemed to trigger a memory within you. Of course, you worked in such a place as this. You were a background illustrator, a painter, if you will. You were one of the key workers on the scenes of a cartoon.  
  


A cartoon of which it’s name escapes you.   
  


This arouses yet another question, where in the actual fuck are you? This scene seems so out of place. You were in the middle of a room, in the middle of pool which seemed specifically made for your height. It felt comfortable to be in despite the cold, slick ink that currently invaded your personal space. Otherwise, there were potted plants who had seen better days scattered across the room, and a single lone light shining down directly onto where you slumbered. Regardless of the obscenity of it all, you remember the architecture well. Old wooden boards, flickering bulbs, and pipes upon pipes on the ceiling, walls, and sometimes on the floor. Two pipes running to the pool you sat were either side of you, currently ensuring the ink level stayed the same.   
  


This room alone wasn’t going to give you answers. If you wanted answers, you were going to have to seek them. With a gentle grunt and with upmost care, you steadied yourself onto your feet, careful not to slip. You stepped outside of the pool and onto creaking aged wood. Ah. Yet another memory trigger of roaming these halls, yet they seemed so foreign to you now. You padded onward, allowing whatever excess ink to pool off of you and sink away into the already ruined wood below. Your attire merely only had a few ink splotches which was bewildering considering you were just in a pool of the stuff a minute ago. Your forearms and hands however weren’t so lucky, as they seemed to be the only part of you that was truly stained. Curious. Chilling, sure, but curious. 

Putting your previous thoughts behind you, you decide to head forward. Where forward exactly is you weren’t too sure. But for starters, getting out of this creepy-ass sleeping chamber room would be one thing. Perhaps outside of here you could find out what year it even was. Your brain felt heavy as if it had been asleep for a long time, and your lack of memory certainly supported this. A door rested at the edge of the room, allowing you to leave, and upon doing so you were immediately greeted with a corridor, around twenty steps long to get through. Nothing seemed to scream danger at first, until you encountered the next corridor. Upon entering, a glimpse of black caught your eye, and you turn to it. 

“Reignite the Machine...” You read to yourself upon observing the black letting crudely written on the wall. Machine. What machine? Something was hidden deep within your brain that tried to scream to you about it... But what? Your chest seemed to feel heavy at the very word. How could such a word bring such a sinking feeling? You already knew something horribly wrong was at play here, the feeling worsened now your chest felt as if it wanted to scream. An arrow pointed on the wall to the next door, which immediately prompted you to leave. Another corridor to pass was immediately what you expected to see, yet you were caught immensely off guard.   
  


Flooring below your feet had changed to rock. Uneven, ragged, and not the safest to traverse. But what caught you even more off guard was the new scene brought before you. You approached, eyes wide, unbelieving. Darkness spread across the wide space, chains and various bits of rope hung from the infinite above. A cage was seen, and you didn’t want to look twice in case that actually was a dead body within. No wonder you felt short of breath - you were literally underground. Underground. In a place that once felt familiar, now your memory had been completely shattered into nothingness. You knew nothing after all.   
  


You stared for what seemed like an eternity, until your chest began to feel heavy. Brilliant. You could bet your ass there was barely any oxygen down here, so you wanted out to the upper levels as soon as physically possible. As you want to move, you staggered, and as if out of nowhere. You heaved. Your throat began to spasm, twitch and revolt, causing you to cough heavily. A thick substance filled your airways, and your body was trying it’s hardest to be rid of it. At this point you were heaving and feeling suffocated from the amount of coughing and desperate gasps for air you were doing. Finally, after what seemed to be too long, you coughed something up. It felt like a sort of bulky flem, but upon looking down it was... black. Black and pulsing, writhing.   
  


“What the fuck...” You curse under your breath, kneeling over what you had produced. It wasn’t too long before the small black pulp melted, and dribbled over the edge and deeper into the abyss before you. You had to pause and truly comprehend what just happened, despite not knowing in the slightest. You just vomited up some unknown black substance after awakening ink a pool of ink. You had memory loss and could barely remember who you are. Needless to say, you’re scared out of your damn mind.   
  


You stepped back, standing upright and holding your throat gently with your hands. You were relieved you didn’t just die from whatever your body rejected. It could of been far, far worse. 

Deciding it was probably wise to leave this area, you walked swiftly to the next door, and upon closing the door behind you, you heard a very intense “click”. It sounded as if the path behind you was now locked, and going back there was going to be next to impossible. When you looked behind, however, you were met with a blank wall, exterior similar to the rest of your surroundings. You hadn’t had the mental capacity to want to contemplate what could of been the reason to hide a door with you behind it, but you just about had enough. You wanted out, and you wanted out _now._  
  


You approached another door and was finally met with some sort of hub. A desk with a dusty old typewriter was left to rot, and a busted ink pipe dribbled it’s leftover contents over the chair parked politely in front of the desk. Papers, some ruined with ink and others not, were strewn across the desk. As much as you wanted to check every single door that connected to here, perhaps it would be best to check out whatever information you could before dashing off. 

A careful hand traced across the sheets, digging something out of relevance. Taxes. Taxes. Due dates. Work seekers... Oh?   
  


Soon enough your fingertip trailed across a name written on top of a sheet of paper... Your name. You knew it was yours the moment you laid eyes on it. Half of the page was missing, torn and the tips of the paper stained with, you guessed it! More ink. The paper merely stated details as your birth date, occupation, name, gender, and what your strengths were. However, in crude letting, the word “Keeper” was sprawled on the very top of the page. You decide to pocket the document for later.   
  


On the opposite side of the desk, was a fresher pile of sheets, with paper as white as you’d never known it to be. It was so crisp, so professional. You picked one up, scanning it’s contents, then your eyes trailed to the date. 

October 15th, 2018. A whole 72 years had passed...   
  


You were creeped out. Lowering the page back down to its desk, you contemplated. This was either a really, really sick trick, or you had somehow ended up in a horror story. There was no way in hell someone your age would of survived 72 years cooped up and drowned in ink. Nothing about this was normal. It chilled you to the core, much like the distant humming you now heard. Wait— Pardon?   
  


Your hearing had honed in on a drawled, humming. Masculine in sound, predatory in execution. It almost sounded cheerful, only to sound solemn at the end of the small melody. A sign of life... short lived knowing it could of been a possible threat. You weren’t too sure were the source of the voice was even coming from. Regardless, you decided you weren’t going to pursue. You felt something deep and terrible igniting in your gut, and you wasn’t sure if that was because you still had black sludge deep within your intestines. You’d sincerely hoped not.   
  


Turning on your heels, you glanced to each door. “Administration, Filming, Studio, Heavenly Toys.” You read out the headers of each door, only the reach for the handle to the last. If anything, it was a good hiding spot, and if not, perhaps a way out. You could only hope. You pushed forward, opening and closing the door behind you. A staircase greeted you, a light shining at the very top, while the bottom’s light had been snuffed out a time ago. The only way was up. And if not? There are plenty of doors to try if this one ended up being a failure.   
  


* * *

The sound of running ink above was slowly draining you of energy. It had such a repetitive, annoying sound. Very slash and slosh it made irked you at this point. Why was this place full of the stuff again? Sure you were mostly a group of animators and artists, but did we really need this much ink? How much did it cost? Where the hell did it all come from? You wanted to have a strong word with administration at this point, only to give them a slap around the face for wasting so much money on such a otherwise plentiful resource. Mind you, you hadn’t a clue if there was an ink shortage in the outside world. There very well could be for all you knew.   
  


Your internal rambling was soon halted upon arriving at the centre stage of Heavenly Toys. It seemed like everything halted, including time itself. It weren’t long before you found yourself remembering almost _everything_ in a matter of seconds the moment you laid eyes on him. The Grinning Demon... 

You could feel them. All around you. People rushing and working away, holding all sorts of merchandise and prepping it to be sent off. Many often came here for their tea breaks, the couches full of chatting workers, animators and machine workers alike. This room was so full of life, so full of creativity and dreams... 

As your mind came back to reality, it all fizzled out, and you were now just simply standing before a cardboard cutout. That smile... that charming, mischievous smile. This was the main character of the show you helped bring to life, wasnt it? Of course it was. His entire demeanour was charming and bright, and in the cartoons themselves you always found yourself feeling bad for the demonic entity. Sure he was a little shit, but the animators really gave him the best puppy eyes when he needed them.   
  


“Bendy...” You murmured underneath your breath, slowly reaching out to touch the cardboard. It felt smooth to the touch, as if time never really affected it. Upon pulling away, the only affect of time was the dust on your fingertips. That smile was still as pristine as always. You found yourself smiling with him. You loved your job after all. Painting was your prime, and it was so soothing, and being able to do it for a living was even better. Your smile was short lived when you heard a slight groan behind you. 

You turned, only to find nothing. It sounded more so a mechanical groan, along with a clank of a pipe above. You figured it was just the old pipes adjusting themselves, and sighed to yourself. You were way too stressed, but also being way too keen to stand around smiling at a fictional character. It was clear he wasn’t going to help you, and if you knew what kind of beast could see within his eyes, you wouldn’t want it anywhere near you. Here you were, oblivious to the slight sense of danger the cutout had. Though, you did suddenly feel a chill run across your back. You felt as if you were being watched. 

Taking the stairs, you look back to the area you just came from upon finishing your ascent. You wanted to make sure you didn’t miss a thing, and after glancing the area a few more times, you comfortably walked into the next area. A machine surrounded you in this room, so did many unfinished and strewn toys, eyes missing and limbs yet to be stitched. There were a few prime examples sitting proudly on nearby shelves, but they were untouched ever since they were placed down. Sad. Those dolls could of been a child’s best friend in the darkest of nights, yet they serve no real purpose here... Except, you decide to pick a friend. 

You always had a soft spot for the friendly wolf, Boris. A seemingly uncaring constantly hungry character in the cartoons. You related to him the most, despite the fact you personally thought he looked nothing like a wolf. More so a cute little dog, but that still made you adore him. You took the replica doll into your arms, and the soft fur comforted you. Feeling it brush against your stained skin was incredibly therapeutic. Such a nice, high quality material. You gave the plushie Boris a tight hug, a squeak emitting from deep within its belly. Awwwh. 

  
A friend in the dark is what you needed. And so, looking down at your apron, you gently tucked Boris into the open pocket where you once stored your tools of the trade. There. A little home for Boris. You suddenly felt like the little doll’s parent figure. And so, you began to speak. 

“It’s alright, Boris.” You murmured, holding your hands close to the plush as you went into the next room. “Well make it out. We’ll find help. Help shouldn’t be too far now.”   
  


Of course you were only met with silence. The little Boris couldn’t respond to you. If only he could. What a fascinating idea that would be. A real life, walking, talking cartoon. What a different world it would be if things were this way... Except, it was nothing to what you imagined it to be. You were all caught up in your ideals of cartoon and man, until you heard a slight pitter patter of feet behind you. Just as you were reassuring yourself, you know found yourself questioning your sanity.   
  


Your head whipped around, and again you saw nothing. But this was too much of a coincidence for it to not be something at this point. It felt as if the eyes never left your back, despite your attempts at befriending a fleece plush to calm you down. Perhaps you were dehydrated. Your brain gets loopy when you were. You were about to reason to yourself, when you noticed there was a far, far larger shadow before you than your own, looming. You froze, trying to figure out if it was your own shadow or indeed another’s—-

A ringing rang deep in your ears, and you fell. Pain surged and collected in the back of your neck, and a faint moan escaped your lips. The last thing you saw was a pair of blackened shoes step into your vision, before the void finally took over your senses once again. 


	2. What Lies in Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Struggling and bound, a believer tells you what you’re destined for. Hope is seemingly non existent, until the arrival of an unexpected face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyooooo
> 
> So I’ve got a lot of projects going on atm including a few personal comics. I wanna try and illustrate some stuff in this story into some comics whenever I’m not working on my projects. 
> 
> As for actual chapter updates, I’m afraid it’ll be as and when I feel like writing a new chapter. I wish I had the energy all the time to do multiple things, but alongside work, irl, job seeking, projects etc. I gotta put this as low priority sadly. It’s mostly made for fun, anyway. 
> 
> I’m yet again writing this chapter at work so! If you see any mistakes I apologise, but any critique is welcome here. 
> 
> Have fun yall!

Sweet Jesus fuck, you ached. Your head was pounding and your wrists felt violated, blood barely pulsing through to your hand. Whatever it was that had you tied, it made you felt raw and sore at every attempt to move. You had only just begun to awaken, to find to yourself in a dimly lit room. Dust floated freely, specks of white passing through your vision on occasion. A twitch and nudge of your legs confirmed your second suspicion, your ankles bound to the wooden chair you were stuck on. Wonderful.   
  


Looking around the room, you were in a semi-open space. A hallway sprawled before you, a door to your left and a door right behind you. Already you had three possible options of escape, but your first problem was getting out of your bounds. Rope was hurting your skin, but you don’t really recall struggling too much. At least it was easier to breathe in this room than last time. With a sigh, you try and figure out where exactly this is. It wasn’t somewhere you knew back in the day. You had a guess of some sort of admin location, but then you spotted a lone banjo leaning on a wall in the distance. The music department, perhaps? 

A steady rhythm of foot steps rang through your ears, making you instinctively turn your head to its sound. It was coming from the room to the left, and immediately, you felt on edge. However, you decide to let yourself be known. 

“Hello! Hello, I don’t know who is behind there, but, but I need you to let me go!” You called, sounding fearful. “If, if you can hear me, come out of there! Please!” 

The footsteps paused, leaving you in the dark. There was a sinking feeling in your gut you just made a grave mistake. You didn’t know if the person behind that door was the one who put you here in the first place, but regardless... 

You held your breath. You were expecting the worst to happen, but alas. For a moment in time, it felt as if your calls will go unanswered. With a sudden “click”, the door swung itself open, giving a large bang as it hit the wall beside it. You jumped in your seat, now staring at the man who stood in the doorway. He was currently adjusting a mask in the shape of Bendy, ensuring it was on correctly. A low, drawled hum emerged from deep within the man’s throat, now making his way to you. His skin was an inky black, seemingly to constantly move and drip. He _looked_ human, but the constant moving of his skin suggested otherwise. You had no idea what he was, but you knew he was sentient from the very fact he was closing in on you. 

“You’re finally awake. Did you rest well, chosen one?” His voice was smooth, yet held a strong sense of a darker intention for you. You couldn’t tell what kind of emotion was going through his head, but you knew damn well he was staring deep into your eyes. “I apologise I had to lure you here in such a harsh way. But, I couldn’t risk losing you. Not now.”   
  


You quirked a brow. “Chosen one?” You repeated, now giving a frown. “Listen, I am no chosen one or whatever. I’ve been drowned in ink for over seventy years and you’re the first... _thing,_ I’ve seen since I woke up.” Your aggregation grew stronger as your voice became more laced with anger. “Would you mind telling me why the fuck am I tied up? And who the fuck are you?”   
  


Another hum left his lips, though this time a lot more remorseful. “You do not remember me? Ah... that is. Quite a shame.” He truly did sound upset at the question, but held his posture. He slowly but surely sauntered his way in front of you, now looming. “Then again. This could be the cost of your preservation.”   
  


A pang of distraught hit your gut. Though, you recall choking up black flem not too long ago, and prayed it wasn’t going to happen again. You couldn’t help but sneer. “Preservation? I ain’t some fucking treasure-“ 

A hand stopped your midway through your anger, the grip of the man before you stunning you into silence. He had a hold of your face, now leaning forward to closer observe you. “Now I don’t recall you having such a temper on you. I always took you for one of the quieter ones. Background artists tend to keep to themselves and daydream in their work, after all.” He cooed out, now squeezing your cheek.   
  
“Get your fucking hand off me.” You snarled, giving him a gaze of death. That seemed to earn a chuckle from the man. You swore you heard him say your name under his breath, but before you could react, his hand recoiled, only to very swiftly backhand you.   
  


“You really don’t remember who you’re talking to, don’t you, little sheep?” He rumbled a response, now holding his hands away from you and stepping back. “Take a good look at me, my dear. Listen. Listen real closely.”   
  


You began to shudder. This man was dangerous, and was more than happy to cause harm to you at any given notice. You didn’t want to look while he was taking off his mask. Though, all throughout, you couldn’t help but find his voice familiar. C’mon, think. Clearly he was wanting you to remember him, to trigger something deep within. The second you laid eyes on his bare face, you saw a flash of the man he used to be... 

Before laying eyes on the monstrosity that is now Sammy Lawrence.   
  


“Sammy?!?” You cried out, overcome with emotion. Yet, it was short lived, as you felt your blood boil. “Sammy! What the fuck! Why are you doing this to me?! Explain yourself!”   
  


Sammy turned around, giving a long, drawled whistle, saying your name multiple times in shame. “It’s such a delight to know you indeed do remember me after all. But you see, I became a believer since you’ve been gone. Our prophet is in a time of need, now more than ever. And you?” After putting on his mask once more, he faced towards you again, glaring. “You are the answer. I preserved your body as a last resort. The final answer to allow him to set us free.” His hand now reached out to caress your jawline, observing you like a piece of meat. 

“You should be proud, my little sheep. Not many get the chance to work up and close to personal to the Ink Demon himself. I envy you... yet, I cannot truly suit the role needed to set us free.” Sammy’s hand trailed further down, now resting on your stomach. “You were given a gift during your rest. The first of your kind. The Ink blesses you with immortality without the need to transfer your soul. That is truly a gift from our lord, my sheep. He was the one who put you to rest. Ink writhes within you...” 

This was getting too much. He was up and personal into your bubble, spouting some random shit about a demon and gifts and— ugh! He’s rubbing your stomach with his digits, giving a content hum. Your curiosity got the better of you, you asked; “Who is... The Ink Demon?” 

You felt Sammy’s stare pierce through you in disbelief. “You don’t know? You don’t know who gifted you with a perfect means of living? Why... You disgust me.” Sammy suddenly took a harsh grip on both of your arms. You winced, his grip threatening to leave bruises. “I will teach you the way of our lord, little sheep. You will fall to your knees beside me and _worship_ our saviour. I will _make_ you believe—!” 

In an act of pure stupidity and wanting this maniac to stop, you slam your head forward in a firm headbutt, which ended up knocking Sammy backwards. You ended up giving a good enough blow that he fell over, knocking him out. The only downside was now, your headache had tripled in pain, making you very lightheaded, and now you were alone again. 

You were happy for that fact, however. 

Your breaths were shaky, your thoughts racing and all of your limbs felt sore and beaten. You were probably roughly manhandled here by Sammy, but thankfully he was no longer awake to torment you. “You’re a fucking lunatic...” You hissed under your breath while you eyed his limp body. A moment passed, processing what exactly just happened. All that was on your mind now was finding a way to untie yourself and get as far away from him as possible. That was going to be a challenge. 

You tugged at your bounds. No dice. You look around your surroundings to try and seek out something sharp you can use to your advantage. Nothing. You look to your ankles, judging to see if they were just as tight as your wrists - they were. You spent the next two minutes trying to figure out a solution. All that was left was tears threatening to fall down your cheeks, and hasty breaths escaping your lips. You didn’t want to die here. You didn’t want to witness whatever the fuck Sammy was talking about. Something about an ink demon didn’t exactly strike you as something worth worshipping.  
  
It was on that train of thought you felt something tug behind you. A soft, cotton feeling glided softly against your skin momentarily. You tried to look back, but saw nothing in your immediate sight. “Hello?” You meekly cried out. Soon enough, you felt the rope slip down your skin, freeing your hands. You immediately brought them to you, rubbing at your wrists. But then, you froze. Someone was here with you.   
  


A pitter patter of boots caught your attention, bringing you to look forward. Your eyes couldn’t comprehend what you saw. 

“Bendy...?”   
  


A little grinning demon was before you, currently untying the rope around your ankles. He paused, only to look at you, before giving a wink. The cartoon from seventy years ago was standing before you, in... what you thought was flesh. Small, but careful gloved hands carefully undone the final tie, before stepping back a few steps on top of a puddle of ink. He gave a small bow, before hopping into the puddle, and disappearing. 

“W-Wait!” You reached out, but he was already gone. Melted into the puddle of ink below. You scrambled from your seat, trying to ignore the need to pass out from your migraine. You were sad you didn’t get the chance to properly say anything to the demon, but then again. You weren’t sure your mind was playing tricks on you. You shot a glance down to Sammy, whom was breathing, and occasionally twitching. It wasn’t a good idea to stick around.   
  
Stepping over him, a sudden, loud whistle coming from the exposed hallway caught your attention. You saw the little demon now standing above yet another ink puddle in the middle of the hall way, and very casually beckoned you with a hand. “Wait! Bendy! Don’t go anywhere I—“ You wasted no time in following him, dashing towards him, only to watch him walk off into another direction. By the time you got to his spot, he was gone once again. So this was the game he was going to play, was it?   
  


Either way, he must of let you go with a good reason, And beckoned you towards this way. Perhaps this was your ticket out of here, or to something that will aid you. You had too many questions now, of which you wanted to pursue the little cartoon for. But was he even real? You weren’t sure. Regardless, you had to carry on. The only thing you had to go by was the trailing of ink, long since stained on the floor below by an unknown being. Perhaps, the little guy decided to help you. You didn’t even see him make any movement to paint on the floor, but the ink was crudely sprawled and all going into the same direction. You followed.   
  


It was the only help you had left. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter was alright! I wanted to make Sammy a fuck ton more creepy cuz I adore sinister characters. I hope I did him justice.
> 
> Also: a small note. I’m not really following BATIM to its complete canon, so there will be some changes to some things to spice it up a little. I hope I don’t mess it up too much though!


	3. Devious Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You are blindly following a tiny saviour, one you can’t figure out if they’re real or a visage of your traumatised state. Either way, they were your only hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I got a big old muse for this so I’m writing this next chapter right away! I still need to proof read the previous one when I got time, so I apologise if there’s any mistakes in it. I will edit it soon, don’t worry. 
> 
> If you have any suggestions on what you’d like to see perhaps, please share them!

It took you a while, but you eventually found the end of the ink trail. It was behind a door, of which black, inhuman marks stained its wood. You saw the little demon seep into its ink, and so, without questioning, you followed. If it was a way out to get away from Sammy, you’d follow anything, hallucination or not.   
  


Behind said door was a small room, connected to a hallway. On the nearby wall a sign clearly stating the word “Elevator” with a black arrow underneath it was pointing to the right direction. Aha! So he was helping you after all! Except, now that you took a moment to observe the room properly, the little demon was no more. Your headache was in fact getting a lot worse, and it felt painful to stand up straight. All you wanted to do was curl up on the floor below and take a long, long nap. Maybe if you could find somewhere secure enough... 

Until then, you travelled down the corridor leading to the supposed elevator. You had to step with caution, as several broken pieces of wood, pipes and puddles of ink littered this hallway. One pile of old studio was in fact blocking one of the few doors with little evidence of attempts to remove it. Seeing your old place of work in such ruin made you felt forgotten. It’s depressing desolation was a clear reminder that you were left behind and left to rot alongside with the rest of the building. Yet your body was still as young and unscarred as you were all of those years ago.   
  


His words, Sammy’s words, instantly sprung to mind. He said you were preserved in ink, didn’t he? Such words provoked a foreign and completely unexplainable concept. Ink didn’t have the means of preservation, only the immortality of a brush stroke or a type of a letter. If anything, the substance was harmful to organic beings like yourself, so why did it keep you alive all this time?   
  


_Our lord has given you a gift._

Your hands instinctively laid on your stomach. That black, writhing sludge. That was the stuff that kept you alive? That stuff was what was considered ink? Ink was one thing, a foreign alien substance capable of extending human life was another. You wasn’t sure if you quite believed it, especially knowing it was the words coming from a man lost within insanity and trapped in a body of a cold abyss. You didn’t even know if he was human anymore.   
  


Were _you_ even human?   
  


* * *

Finally, there it was. The elevator you were seeking out for the past ten minutes. Most of the signs in this building were either broken, ink stained, or faded to time. You made your way through with trial and error. You never recalled this place having so many dead ends, or hell, even this much space!   
  


You wasted no time in rushing to the elevator, reaching out for the button. Except, when your hand instinctively reached for the familiar roundness, you were instead met with a mangled mess. Wires spewed from it, and there was not a single trace of something to push. The panel was obliterated and there was no way of getting it to function. “Shit.” You mumbled beneath your breath. What to do now... 

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.   
  


You glanced downwards to the new repeating noise to find your eyes on the little ink demon once more, who was looking awfully perplexed. The second you realised it was him, you couldn’t help but move a small bit away from him out of nerves, jumpy and afraid. He noticed you move, looking up at you with a sad expression. But it soon turned into a look of mischief. Hehe, he scared you.   
  


“What... are you...?” You couldn’t help but ask, staring in disbelief. The little demon seemingly chuckled at your question despite no noise coming from him. He simply performed a curtesy, then bowing before you. Standing up tall, he then adjusted his tie, giving you his signature grin. Looks like the little guy couldn’t talk. “But there’s no way. You’re a cartoon character!” You exclaimed at him, which earned you a frown. He simply puffed out his cheeks, before walking past you. You felt as if he was going to leave again.   
  


You gently reached out, and managed to grab his hand. “Hold on— Don’t leave me again. You saved me back there, didn’t you? You’re not some sort of hallucination, right?”   
  


Bendy only looked at you with a smug grin, before gently patting your hand that’s holding his with his other gloved hand. It felt real enough, his touch soft and gentle. Perhaps he wanted you to let go of him, and thus you did. He gave a nod, before turning himself the opposite direction and pointing. He then glanced over his shoulder at you, expecting. Without a word he continued in the direction he pointed in. You didn’t have much to go by, especially since he seemingly couldn’t speak. But, you followed.   
  


“Would it be too much to ask if we could find somewhere for me to rest?” You asked. “I haven’t caught a break since I woke up. I feel like I could pass out at any given second.”   
  


All you got in response was a small shrug, the demon not even attempting to look back at you. Oh. Uh. Rude? Maybe he didn’t know if there was one? Maybe he didn’t know what you were saying? God this already sucks. But at least he hadn’t attempted to kill you yet.   
  


Bendy was now leading you down yet another hallway, which took a left turn. The second you took it, the little creature was nowhere to be found. Again. You instinctively turned to look behind you, but didn’t see a thing. You looked ahead, and only saw the path ahead of you. You groaned. “Hey! Why did you have to leave me again?!” You yelled, only to wince in pain after you did. Your head was throbbing, and throughout all of this weirdness and trouble you were ignoring it thus far. But it was becoming increasingly harder and harder to focus and think. Maybe he was a hallucination after all.   
  
With a shaky breath you ventured forth. Your legs were starting to sting and feel raw with every step. The worst of your pain was still from your migraine, but your wrists still somewhat burned from having rope pressed tightly against your flesh. At least they weren’t actually on you anymore, but you were trying to fight off the urge to scratch away the pain. There were words of black and scribbling on the walls as you took yet another corner. You swore you saw something that read something among the lines of ‘It’s time to believe’, ‘Revive Us’, and ‘Beware of The Summoned’. The final line was written in a panicked and almost illegible state, but you weren’t too sure if that was what you truly saw. You didn’t care to linger too long. 

You spotted a slightly open door and decided to approach it, hand yearning for the handle. With a push, it opened up with a creak, revealing an abandoned room. Empty tins of canned soup littered the floor, books and papers scattered in the middle. A hammock hung idle to the right of the room. A place to sleep. A place to recompose and gain energy. You wasn’t going to pass it up. A swift motion of your hand closed the door behind you as you entered, double checking for a lock soon after. Upon finding it, you clicked it shut to prevent the outside world from finding its way in. Well. You hoped, knowing that Bendy could appear and disappear in ink. There was only a single puddle of ink in a corner in this room, with a Bendy cutout standing right next to it.   
  


You paid it no mind. For now, your body dragged itself for the hammock, slumping into it. A weight fell off your shoulders the moment your back filled the fabric, and a thankful sigh escaped your lips. Your hands instinctively laid over the pouch you had your plush Boris resting within. Despite everything, he was still with you. No one decided to take him away from you. Stroking the fur on his head, you allowed yourself to let your guard down. Your mind was pounding, though you felt it fade with each breath you made. You allowed yourself to be lulled into a blissful, deep sleep.   
  


* * *

_At last. You can hear me._

_  
I need you to do something for me. Just something small._

_I know where you are._

_You needn’t come find me. I’ll come find you._

_I can smell you. I couldn’t of chosen a more perfect subject for this.  
_

_I will see you soon, ____.  
  
_

* * *

A homely scent invaded your nostrils. Soft, subtle cooking, the scent of bacon the most prominent. You couldn’t help but flutter your eyes open at the smell, finding yourself starving. A bowl was being gently waved around your face, familiar gloved hands carefully cupping it. You shuffle yourself upwards as best as you could in the hammock to properly observe what was going on. Bendy was beside you, now seemingly pleased you had awoken. He was currently presenting you with a bowl of soup. Bacon soup? It surely smelt like the stuff. You were never a fan of it, but you weren’t about to turn down a meal.   
  


Cautiously you reached out, but the demon pulled the bowl away. He shook his head in which you responded with a frown. In return he pointed his thumb behind him, and your eyes trailed upon a table and chair. Oh right, manners. Your little plushie Boris was currently sat on the table with a bowl of his own.   
  


You hauled yourself out of the hammock with a drawled grunt, now stepping back onto your feet. Your headache had completely disappeared by now, so your nap had worked a dream. Ah. Sweet relief. What was important now was that you got some food in you. You slid your feet across the aged wood and transferred yourself into the chair, slumping an arm over the back of it. Bendy followed suit to place the bowl of soup in front of you. There was already a spoon in waiting for you. “Thank you, Bendy...” You mustered out your thanks, still somewhat groggy from your nap.   
  


Though you couldn’t help but feel... off. Your pain was gone, but you felt as if something was trying to reach out to you deep within. You tried to think back to your dream - there was a voice wasn’t there? A voice you never heard before. For the life of you, you couldn’t recall what it said. Perhaps it was just a strange dream of sorts. You were stressed, after all. You shook off your thoughts, now staring into the bowl below. It looked unappetising, plus the fact you had no idea if this stuff was in date or not. But soup was manufactured to last these days, right? Hopefully it should be fine.   
  


You dipped your spoon into the bowl, and brought it’s collected contents to your lips. You sniffed, taking in its salty scent, then guided the liquid into your mouth. Oh hey, not bad. This stuff used to taste a lot worse when you had it, but this recipe was new and improved! You didn’t waste a second in devouring the lot, knowing this was probably going to be a rare meal. “Ah! Thank you so much, Bendy!” You muffled out during mouthfuls. You looked to your side to see the demon, but yet again... 

He was gone. 

A pang of sadness hit you. Why did he have to keep disappearing like this? You couldn’t help but wonder if he saw you as a threat. If he did, though, he wouldn’t of helped you earlier right? Either way, your gaze soon found a message sprawled on the door you came in through.   
  


**Follow me.  
**

An arrow pointing to the right was also painted on the door. This was new, the ink still dripping from its wood. Maybe the little devil did have a way of communication after all.   
  


As soon as you finished your meal, you grabbed your friendly Boris doll and stashed him back into his rightful home, before leaving the room. Upon stepping out you couldn’t help but feel an extra tension rising in the air. The halls had a different feel to them now. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you knew what you had to do. You turned yourself right, and traveled forward. 

It wasn’t long until you reached a descent. A spiralling of staircases stood before you, all leading to a final door. Step by step, you went on ahead, being mindful of broken steps and steps threatening to break. There was nothing really to note on the walls here, only mindless splatters and hand prints, some still, some dragged down by god knows what. Then, you heard it.   
  


Boom boom.   
  


A faint sound came from the top of the staircase, and you found yourself glancing upwards. Finally, you saw it. A large, round object, causing a frightening racket was quickly descending its way down towards you. It’s loud, explosive noise made you totally aware that whatever this thing was, it was telling you to _run.  
  
_

You screamed, now traversing the steps with a lot less grace and care. Several of them broke and snapped behind you, clawing at your flesh to try and slow you down. The objects noise got louder and louder, slamming against the walls whenever it reached a corner, only to throw itself down faster and faster each time it reached a new staircase. It was too late. The sound was directly behind you, and on instinct, you ducked, and fell on the floor ahead.   
  


CRASH.   
  


The wall had been penetrated by it, now in shambles and ruin. Dust littered the scene but very swiftly began to settle once more. With a huff, you meekly glanced up to find... a drum. A broken drum. The thing that was chasing you was just a large drum. It’s skin was pierced and no longer usable. A slap of skin made your head whip around to the left to see Bendy, currently in a fit of silent giggles and howling. Needless to say, you felt violated.   
  


“BENDY?!?” You roared, pushing yourself back up to your feet. “Did you do that?!?”   
  


He nodded, giving you the most smug, shit eating grin you’ve ever seen on him. He held his hands on his hips, looking awfully proud of himself. You weren’t laughing.   
  


Immediately you stomped your feet towards him, and pointed a finger in accusation. This made the demon stop and give a shocked look. “You scared the absolute BLOODY daylights out of me! What do you think this is? Some sort of fucking JOKE? Huh? HUH?!” You were livid, baring your teeth while you spoke. “I am at fucking WITS END with everything and you decide it’s a good idea to SCARE ME? LIKE THAT? Do you REALLY think that’s funny?!”   
  


The more you yelled, the more guilty and upset the devil looked. His eyes lost their spark, he lost his smile, and his horns and black flesh seemed to begin to melt. A look of regret soon came over your face, observing the little demon drip. His face became malformed, the white mixing with the black and oozing onto the floor. He hurt you. He hurt you in a way he didn’t wish to, and now he felt awful. Irredeemable. The only thing he could do now, was to run and hide away again. His body suddenly seeped and flooded into the floorboards below, and before you could grab him on time, he was gone. 

“N-No! Wait!” You called to no avail. Your hands landed on the floorboards, your nails digging into the wood. He was gone now. “I didn’t know it was a joke! I thought... God damn it.” You cursed in despair. Great. Sure you had a right to be angry, but you had gotten too mad at him. He deserved a slap on the wrist but you had no idea the little demon had a limit. Or perhaps, you were too harsh in your scolding.   
  


You were alone again. The air was growing increasingly intense ever since. The feeling of a thousand sins was crawling against your spine, and you held yourself for comfort. “I’m sorry Bendy... I didn’t mean to scare you.” You muttered to no one, but hoping he was still around to hear you. You didn’t wait for an answer, but instead, you picked yourself up. Taking one last glance at the carnage that was caused, you reached out for the door beside it and walked on through.   
  


Ink seeped and expanded on the staircase you left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! Please let me know if yall are enjoying this and if you are, perhaps share this with your fellow bendy brainrot pals! 
> 
> I am very excited for The Dark Revival and honestly this story has a few of my headcanons for it. 
> 
> I have also decided there will be no smut content in this story. Just a really creepy horror story and some tension between you and Bendy. I do wanna write a romance for Ink!Bendy and reader in another story, but this one is all scares and spooks.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I wrote this during a very quiet work day based on a little scenario I thought of before going to sleep last night. I got a lot of ideas for this but idk how quickly I’ll update. Tho If I get a lot of comments on this I might get encouraged to do more. 
> 
> I hope this wasn’t too poorly written aaaaaaa
> 
> EDIT (1/9/20) - Fixed some mistakes and stuff to make it feel a little more fluent.


End file.
